


Adapting to Circumstances

by Morgane (smilla840)



Series: Second chances [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - High School, First Time, Friendship, Full warnings inside, Knotting, M/M, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 14:56:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilla840/pseuds/Morgane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Clint once knew he was born an omega, he’s long since forgotten about it – until he goes into heat and is told the circus is no longer a good place for him. Thrust back into the foster system Clint must now adapt to his new life and learn to accept it’s okay to be different. That’s easier said than done, but luckily his new foster parents are pretty great – and so is his new friendship with the kid who lives next door, Phil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adapting to Circumstances

**Author's Note:**

> My entry for this year’s Kink Big Bang. CPWatcher made a fantastic vid for it which you can watch [here](http://youtu.be/yTCSXqFwuec) (and leave feedback [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1174768)) along with the banner you can see below.
> 
> Once upon a time I thought it would be a good idea to combine two tropes, high school AU and ABO ‘verse, after I found myself wondering how a society might deal with heats/ruts during puberty/teenagehood. What do you do when you’ve got underage kids with a physiological need for sex? This is the result, and I suppose I went with an optimistic view (suppressants for everyone it is!). I also want to apologise for the lack of Natasha in this fic, I needed her for the sequel :)
> 
>  
> 
> **Warnings:** high school AU, ABO ‘verse, underage sex (both Clint and Phil are 16 when they start dating), awkward first time sex (read: accidental knotting), mild body image issues with an ensuing self-esteem problem, some gender-related bullying and insults, references to mpreg
> 
> A note on consent since this is ABO: while Clint does go into heat at the beginning of the story, he doesn’t have sex with anyone under the influence. For that matter, no one has sex with anyone while in heat/rut during the course of this story and there is no consent issue that I can think of.

  
[](http://s241.photobucket.com/user/momo450/media/kinkbigbang.png.html)   


 

Clint didn’t remember a lot about his first heat. 

He had been feeling achy and hot all day, and at first he had thought it was just the flu: it was January and it was going around. But Clint couldn’t afford to get sick now – when could he ever, really? – and so he tried to ignore it. He had to practice for their opening night, after all, and his arrows weren’t going to shoot themselves. 

Clint may be more stubborn than most but when it got the point where he could barely stand anymore, even he had to admit defeat. So he gave up and went to bed, curling into a ball under his blanket and hoping against hope that some sleep would make him feel better. 

Mr Carson found him hours later when Clint didn’t show up on time and in costume for his act. The man took one look at him and drove him straight to the hospital, muttering curses under his breath all the way there. Clint didn’t remember much but he remembered that, along with the antiseptic smell of the hospital and people arguing in loud voices over his head. He whimpered, desperate for something he couldn’t articulate, and someone told him it was going to be okay.

Then there was the sharp prick of a needle in his shoulder and everything went dark.

\---

Clint woke up hours later, feeling groggy and sweaty and gross. He was in a hospital bed with an IV in his arm and vague memories in his head. The gnawing need he had felt deep inside was gone though, and he was relieved for that at least. He wasn’t stupid; he could guess what it had been.

A nurse came in and Clint looked at her and thought _beta_. He blinked a couple of times, staring at her as she went around the room checking his IV and a bunch of other things. The feeling didn’t go away. It was weird.

“What’s going on?” he asked her and she looked at him with a pinched mouth. Clint knew that look – he had seen it on enough faces in the towns the circus went through –, except he couldn’t figure what he had done to deserve it this time.

“Doctor Jones will answer all your questions in a minute,” she said, not unkindly, and finished up what she was doing before leaving him alone to wait for the doctor.

It took him a while to arrive and he turned out to be a she. Doctor Jones was a petite dark haired woman who also happened to be heavily pregnant. _Omega_ , something inside Clint said, and he shook his head to clear it. The adults at the circus had always been able to look at someone new and _know_ what they were, alpha, beta or omega. Clint had always figured they didn’t really know, they just guessed, but clearly he had been wrong.

“I know, it takes a while to get used to,” the doctor said with a friendly smile, and Clint relaxed a little. “I’m Doctor Jones,” she went on, growing serious. “Is it okay if I ask you some questions, Clint?”

He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest and wincing a little as he pulled on his IV. He really wanted a shower.

“Do you know what happened yesterday?”

“I guess…” She looked at him encouragingly and he sighed. “I went into heat, right? That means I’m an omega?”

She nodded. “Yes, that was a heat. Was it your first?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know what a heat is?”

Clint felt himself flush and he shrugged again.

“I’m going to explain it to you anyway, okay?” She went on to do just that, and Clint wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole. Her tone was clinical and matter-of-fact but Clint was sure his face was bright red anyway, and when she got to the sex part, he couldn’t help wrinkling his nose. At just 13, Clint’s idea of sex was still limited to his own hand and maybe thinking about kissing that boy two towns back. Anything else was just… _ew_. The pregnancy part was worse though, and by the time the doctor was finished with that Clint was more than a little alarmed by his body despite her reassuring words. It wasn’t like it was news or anything – Clint wasn’t stupid, he knew male omegas could get pregnant – but he had never thought it would apply to _him_. He had always figured he’d be a beta like Barney. After all, the omegas he knew were nothing like him: they were pretty and small, just like the doctor, and Clint wasn’t exactly tall for his age but working with a bow had made him strong. 

“Now, Mr –” She glanced down at her chart. “– Carson who brought you in said you were an orphan. Do you remember your parents talking to you about this, or a relative maybe? An older sibling?”

Clint looked down, his shoulders hunching up protectively. Why had Mr Carson told them that? When he had agreed to let them stay with the circus, he had been very clear: should Clint or Barney interact with outsiders, they were to say their parents were part of the circus or social services would get involved and they would all be in trouble. Why had he changed his mind? Had social services been called already? Did Clint have time to make a run for it before they got here? He couldn’t leave the circus, it was home! And if he left, how would Barney find him when he’d come back?

“Clint?” the doctor prompted, breaking through his growing panic. 

Clint shook his head and forced himself to look casual and not like he was scanning the room for exit routes: “I asked someone once. They said I was too young and there was no way to tell what I was without a blood test.”

“That’s right, that’s why babies are tested when they’re born, so their parents or guardians can teach them how to take care of themselves when they go through puberty. Going into heat like you did, especially at your age… it can be dangerous.” 

Clint frowned. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, Clint, you didn’t do anything wrong. Your case is just a little… unusual. Omegas – and alphas too – usually go on suppressants when they start puberty, so we’re not used to seeing heats in someone as young as you anymore. Not that it never happens, some people don’t believe in the meds. And of course you had no way of knowing, given your… circumstances. In fact it explains a few things.” 

Clint waited for her to elaborate but she didn’t, jotting down words on her chart instead.

“What happens now?” he asked. “When can I go home?”

“Well, we started you on suppressants when you came in yesterday as part of the emergency treatment. If you want to stay on them, we’ll keep you under observation for a little while until we get you on the right dosage – normally we’d ask for your legal representative’s opinion but you’re old enough to make decisions regarding your own body when it comes to suppressants so…”

“I’ll take them,” Clint said quickly. If he stayed here, he could try to buy himself some time to figure things out. Besides, he didn’t want to go into heat again. It had been scary.

“Okay, we’ll do that then. As for going home, someone is going to come by and talk to you about it.”

He nodded numbly. He didn’t have a lot of time left, then. It looked like he would have to leave without the suppressants. That sucked but he couldn’t risk it. And at least now he knew he needed them, he would probably be able to find some on the road. 

“Can I take a shower?” he said. She glanced at the IV bag and Clint followed her eyes. It was almost empty.

“Of course. I’ll have the nurse come in and take your IV out. Your lab work looks good, I don’t think you need it anymore. And it’s time to switch you to pills.”

“Thanks.”

She left and the same nurse came back in. She didn’t look as stern as she had before – in fact she almost looked sorry for him and that annoyed him more. Clint would take disdain over pity any day. Still she got rid of the IV for him and Clint almost ran to the small bathroom. He really did feel gross.

Despite his growing anxiety, the shower was the best thing Clint had felt in a while – all that hot water! – and he never wanted to get out. But then he thought the nurse may come to check on him if he took too long and he hurried, his face going bright red again as he washed the slick mess on his ass and thighs. He was curious too and so he held his hand out into the light to look at it, rubbing his fingers together and making a face at how it felt. He chickened out before he could experiment some more and got out of the shower, drying himself quickly.

He only had the hospital gown he had woken up in to wear, and he could hardly make his escape in that. Keeping a tight grip on his towel he risked pushing the bathroom door open to look around his room for the clothes he had come in with but they weren’t there. He was trying to figure out what to do when there was a knock on the door. It started opening before he could answer, and Clint caught a glimpse of the nurse on the other side of it before he slammed the bathroom door shut again. He was basically naked here, okay? He didn’t want her to _see_!

“Everything okay in there?” She sounded almost amused and Clint found himself blushing again. He hated how easily that happened.

“Uhm… I don’t have any clothes to wear,” he told her, fidgeting a little, and there was a moment of silence before she said:

“You have a visitor. I think he can help you with that.”

Clint frowned, wondering who it could be, and risked cracking the door open again. Mr Carson was standing there, looking mightily uncomfortable, and the sheer relief Clint felt at the sight left him a little lightheaded. 

Mr Carson had come back for him. Clint would go home with him and everything would be okay.

“Here,” Mr Carson said, pushing a bag at Clint who took it gratefully before locking himself back into the bathroom to rummage through it for something to wear. It didn’t take long: it was as if Mr Carson had grabbed everything he could find of Clint’s and shoved it into the bag. Clint should have found it odd to be presented with such a large selection – Mr Carson was hardly the kind of man to worry about Clint’s sartorial options while in the hospital – but he was still too relieved to notice.

Then he got out of the bathroom and realised that Carson also had his bow and wouldn’t look at him, and all the relief vanished into one giant pit of dread.

“Mr Carson?” he asked, hating the way his voice wobbled.

“Clint. Why don’t you sit down? You look like you’re going to fall over,” Carson said gruffly and Clint bit his lip but did what he was told, perching himself onto the bed cautiously.

He waited in silence for Carson to say something. He could guess what it would be – it seemed obvious now – and he could already feel tears burning his eyelids.

“I’m sorry, Clint. You can’t stay with us anymore.”

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, and Carson shook his head sharply.

“No, you didn’t. You’re a good kid, Clint, a good worker. But I would never have taken you and your brother on if I had known you were an omega. This life, it’s not good for someone like you. Omegas deserve better.”

“But there are other omegas in the circus,” Clint said a little desperately and Carson looked a little sad.

“They’re adults, and mated. You… You’re so young. I can’t be responsible for you out there. I’m really sorry.”

Clint nodded numbly. The thing was, Mr Carson really _did_ look sorry, but none of it made any sense to Clint. He was still the same person he had been the day before, so what had changed? Sure, he was an omega now but why did it matter?

“Here. I want you to have this,” Carson said, shoving the bow at Clint who took it reflexively.

“It’s not mine,” he said because it was true. He may be the only one who used it, may think of it as _his_ , but it still belonged to Mr Carson.

“Nonsense, I want you to have it.”

“Oh.” Clint stared at the bow, the lump in his throat growing. “Thanks.”

Mr Carson stood up, hovering by the bed for a couple of seconds. “You have a good life, okay kid?” he finally said, patting Clint’s shoulder awkwardly, and Clint couldn’t think of anything to say. He also couldn’t bear to watch Carson walk toward the door and so he stared at the bow in his hands instead – until the very last minute when Clint remembered something.

“Mr Carson?” 

The man paused in the doorway and turned back to look at him.

“If Barney comes back, could you…” Clint trailed off, unsure how to finish, but Carson understood.

“I’ll tell your brother where to find you if I see him,” he said and Clint tried to smile his thanks but his face felt frozen and unresponsive.

Then Mr Carson was gone and Clint curled on the bed around his bow and cried.

\---

Clint spent the ensuing days staring at the ceiling. He felt numb, and in a way that made things easier – easier than the blind fits of rage that would overcome him at random and make him want to hurl things at the walls and scream that it was all fucking unfair. He would get so mad at himself during them, so _angry_ that he had to be an omega. The circus had been his home and he had been happy, but then he just had to go and ruin everything.

Clint had had more than one home over the years – there had been the house where he had lived with his parents and the group home where he and Barney had stayed after they had died. But his few memories of the first were tarnished by fear, whatever happiness he may have felt when his dad had been gone overshadowed by the sure knowledge that he’d return eventually, and the latter had been so busy, too many kids and not enough supervision, that the best Clint could hope for was to be ignored by everyone. 

The circus though… The circus had been different. Life had been hard, yes, but people had stuck together and looked out for one another – even for the two outsider kids who had appeared in their midst one day and forgotten to leave.

Now that was gone and Clint didn’t really care what happened to him next.

It wasn’t up to him anyway.

A social worker came by on the third day. He introduced himself as Sam and asked a lot of questions. He mostly wanted to know about Barney, and Clint told him what he could with detached, monosyllabic answers. From what he gathered, the plan was to locate Barney and see if he could take Clint in, and although Clint tried to pretend he didn’t feel a glimmer of hope at that, it was too late already. The notion had taken root and Clint found himself thinking maybe things _would_ be okay. He tried not to get his hopes up – after all, Barney was very good at disappointing him – but he found himself clinging to the idea all the same. They would find a place for just the two of them, some tiny apartment no bigger than what their trailer used to be, and it would be home. 

By the time his doctor said he could be released, Sam had arranged an emergency placement for him. Clint picked up the bag with all his belongings in it, shouldered his bow and followed Sam to his car. He resolutely stared out of the window during the drive, refusing all attempts at conversation, and fought hard against the urge to jump out and run. He would have done it in a heartbeat if he had thought Mr Carson would take him back but he had made his feelings clear and Clint didn’t fancy living on the streets again. The last time had been hard enough, after they had run away from the group home and before the circus, and he had had Barney looking out for him then. 

In the end the only thing that kept him in the car was Barney and the thought that maybe, just maybe, they would be a family again. Sometimes it felt as though this was the only thing keeping him from drowning. 

Clint had met the Wilsons – Marcy and Luke – while he was still in the hospital. They were both betas and already had two beta foster kids, and they didn’t really know how to deal with an omega, especially one like Clint. They weren’t bad – if anything they tried too hard to be nice to him – but Clint still felt too raw and too angry to accept any attempt at sympathy. So he mostly kept to himself and after a while they let him. The whole thing was only temporary anyway, who cared if he got along with them or not? 

It took four days for Sam to come back with news. Clint could tell from the look on his face it wasn’t good before Sam disappeared into the living room with the Wilsons while Clint remained frozen in the staircase. The walls he had erected around himself began to crack and he balled his hands into fists, desperately trying to seal the breach and hold the fear at bay. It wasn’t working though and he could feel the panic building in his chest again, making it difficult to breathe. 

If Mr Carson didn’t want him and Barney didn’t want him, Clint had no idea what was going to happen to him and he was fucking terrified. 

Marcy called his name, derailing his internal freak-out. He took a big gulp of air and made his way downstairs like a condemned man. He wanted to go and hide, anything so as not to hear what would come next, but that wouldn’t make the words any less true, would it? He might as well get it over with.

The Wilsons left him alone with Sam and Clint sat down in front of him, staring intently at the carpet. He could hear his heartbeat pulsing in his ears and he felt vaguely sick. 

“Clint, we’ve managed to locate your bother,” Sam said, and Clint’s heart inexplicably leapt into his throat. “Unfortunately he isn’t going to be able to look after you.”

Clint nodded numbly. He had known it was coming. Really, it was a wonder he had ever managed to convince himself otherwise. Then again, Clint had always been terrible at managing his expectations. It was his own fault if he was disappointed, really. 

“I need you to understand this isn’t because of you or anything you did,” Sam went on and Clint couldn’t smother his snort at that. Of course it was his fault. Barney probably didn’t want to get stuck with an omega, just like Mr Carson.

“Clint, it’s not. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but your brother… your brother is in prison.”

Clint blinked. And blinked again. 

Oh.

“What did he do?” he found himself asking almost despite himself.

Sam hesitated for a second before sighing. “He robbed a convenience store.”

Clint winced. “Is he getting out soon?” If Barney was in jail then it didn’t mean he didn’t want him. Maybe after he was released, they could–

But Sam shook his head, crushing that hope before it could take flight. “Not for a few years. And even if he did, the State may not consider him a suitable guardian for you. So I’m going to start looking for a permanent home for you. It might take a little while – as you know, it’s harder to place alphas and omegas.” 

Clint nodded again. They had explained all that at the hospital. Omega children couldn’t be fostered in a household where an alpha was a permanent resident and vice-versa. The law was a relic of a time when suppressants weren’t widely used and a handful of sordid affairs had kept the debate going, stopping the law from being struck down every time the subject was brought up.

“The Wilsons are okay with you staying here in the meantime, so unless you have an objection, you’re going to live with them for a little while longer. We’re also going to enrol you at a school so you don’t fall behind. Everything will be okay.” He smiled encouragingly and Clint looked back at him blankly.

He didn’t see how anything could be okay ever again.

\---

In a strange way, Clint felt very calm during the next few days – he was resigned, yes, but a small part of him was relieved too. The worst had come to pass and he didn’t have to wonder anymore. Sure, it all sucked but he was still there and life had taught him to be adaptable. He just had to accept his fate, make the best of it and move forward. It wasn’t like things could get any worse than they already were.

School though… school was doing its best to prove him wrong.

The thing was, Clint knew he wasn’t stupid. Sure, he hadn’t gone to a proper school since third grade but that didn’t mean he hadn’t learned stuff while he was at the circus. He and the other kids had pored over their lessons every morning before going off to practice in the afternoon, so he knew things. Of course, there were some subjects he grasped quicker than others – maths was easy but English was _hard_ – but didn’t everyone?

What he wasn’t used to – what nothing could have prepared him for – was the endless hours of classes where he had to sit and pretend to pay attention, the parade of different teachers each with their own expectations, and the rigidity of the timetable. He had tested ahead of his peers in some disciplines and abysmally behind in others, and the school hadn’t been sure what to do with him. In the end they had gone with the lesser of two evils and put Clint with the rest of his age group. That meant he spent half his time bored out of his mind and the other half hopelessly lost, and for the first couple of weeks he came back to the Wilsons’ exhausted and demoralised.

Another thing Clint wasn’t used to was the throng of students. There had only been a handful of kids at the circus, and to suddenly be constantly surrounded by so many people was overwhelming. It felt like every hour of every day was opening night and it wasn’t long before Clint found himself climbing to the roof during his lunch hour for some peace and quiet. He also created a minor panic and had to promise not to do it again. He just got more careful.

More than their multitude, it was the students themselves Clint was having a hard time with.

He wasn’t sure whose idea it had been to enrol him at an all-omega school. Whoever they were, they had probably thought they were doing him a favour: after all, Clint had only just found out he was an omega and being around other kids like him could only help. Except they _weren’t_ like him. He stood out like a sore thumb and he had to be confronted with just how much he didn’t fit in every hour of every day, with every stare and every whisper.

He hated it.

He remembered the pamphlets they had given him at the hospital, the ones that said all children were born equal and that alphas, betas and omegas would face the same challenges and be afforded the same opportunities in life – the sky’s the limit and all that crap. It was a nice sentiment but from what Clint had seen so far in practice, it was also complete bullshit. You told parents their baby was an omega and they started treating them differently – or at least the kind who saw fit to put their kid in an all-omega school certainly did, and that showed in the student population.

Clint hadn’t been in contact with many omegas in the circus. Objectively he knew he had probably come across lots and just hadn’t been able to tell, but those he _had_ known about had been beautiful and soft. They had been meek and bashful and _nice_ , and they had deferred to their alpha in all things. In return most people around them had acted like they were the most precious thing on earth and had to be protected at all costs. Clint had figured he had been missing something because he hadn’t really understood it at the time. 

He still didn’t.

Because Clint? Clint wasn’t any of these things. Practice and hard work had made him strong and while he may not be very tall, he didn’t try to make himself smaller or unassuming. He looked people in the eye and he wasn’t pretty. His nose was still crooked from when he had broken it the year before and people were always telling him to smile because it looked like he was scowling all the time. He didn’t like art or poetry or any of that crap they taught at the school, he liked archery.

So no, he didn’t look like the other students and didn’t act like them either. No one was particularly mean about it. He was simply met with utter and complete incomprehension and ignored by his classmates. Sometimes he wondered if a mixed school would be different – surely there must be other omegas like him out there – but maybe it would just be more of the same, only with more students to make him feel out of place.

After a while, the isolation and constant reminder started to wear on Clint. It made him self-conscious and insecure. Maybe there _was_ something wrong with him. After all, _he_ was the odd one out. Maybe he needed to be fixed. 

He became withdrawn and even less communicative than before. The Wilsons were worried and so was Sam, but every time someone asked him if something was wrong he lied and said he was fine. He wasn’t fine – he hadn’t touched his bow in ages – but he wasn’t willing to admit it either. He just wanted to be left alone.

Spring break came and went. By then he had been with the Wilsons for almost three months and the relief to be out of school was constantly overshadowed by the dread he felt at the thought he would soon be going back.

Then a week after school had started again, Sam said he had found Clint a permanent foster home.

\---

Marcy cried when she hugged him goodbye and wished him luck. Clint wasn’t sure how to react – he had expected her to be relieved to see him go, why was she sad? – so he just stood there, torn between wanting to push her away and soak up the contact. It felt both constrictive and safe, and he was wondering whether he should maybe try to hug her back when she pulled away, straightening his clothes and smiling at him tearfully.

He was still a little shell-shocked when he got in the car with Sam. They drove in silence for a good fifteen minutes and then Sam started talking.

Melinda May and Jasper Sitwell didn’t have any children – fostered or otherwise – and so far had only served as an emergency foster home. Melinda was a beta and a police officer while Jasper, an omega, taught at a local school.

Clint pretended not to care and looked fixedly ahead. They probably wouldn’t want to keep him. He didn’t fit anywhere. And if one of them was an omega, well… It would just make it all that much clearer.

The house Sam parked in front of wasn’t very big but like the rest of the street it was nice and well-maintained. Clint figured it must be a good neighbourhood, the kind of place where he had fantasised living once upon a time, back when he had still had family to imagine in the house with him. 

Caught up in his thoughts, he almost jumped when Sam knocked on his window and looked at him expectantly. Clint braced himself and got out of the car. Sam had his bag, which was noticeably heavier than it had been last time – something he had the Wilsons to thank for – and so Clint clutched his school backpack like a shield, only remembering his bow as an afterthought. It wasn’t like an omega had any use for one, but it was the only thing he had left from the circus and he wanted to keep it with him.

As far as introductions went, theirs were a bit awkward. Clint stared at the floor and didn’t make a lot of eye contact, keeping his mouth shut unless asked a direct question. Melinda was a bit scary, with a stern and slightly wooden expression, while Jasper talked a lot as though to make up for her restraint. As it was, Sam and Jasper carried most of the conversation, discussing the neighbourhood, Clint’s school and Jasper’s job. Melinda’s was mostly skirted around for some reason and Clint wondered if maybe they thought it’d make him uncomfortable, what with Barney being in jail and all. 

After Sam had gone, Clint quickly found himself slightly overwhelmed to have all of Jasper’s attention on him and Melinda stepped in:

“Why don’t we show Clint his room and let him settle in?” she said and Jasper nodded.

“Right, of course.” 

The three of them trouped up the stairs for an impromptu tour of the second floor – _“so Clint would know where everything was”_ – before stopping in front of what Clint supposed was now his bedroom.

“Sorry it’s a little bare,” Jasper said, running a hand over his shaved skull. “It’s been a while since we…” He stopped abruptly and glanced involuntarily at Melinda before catching himself and looking away again while she ignored the whole thing. Clint wondered what that was about. “Anyway, make yourself comfortable and let us know if you need anything.”

“It’s fine,” Clint said, still clutching his stuff. 

“Right. We’ll let you get settled in, then.” Jasper smiled 

“Dinner will be in an hour, come down when you’re ready,” Melinda added. It almost sounded like an order and Clint found himself nodding even as Jasper shot her another look.

They left him alone and Clint hesitated before pushing the door almost all the way closed once he had heard them make their way down the stairs. Then he shoved his bag in the closet without bothering to unpack – no point, really, if they didn’t keep him – and, after some consideration, put his bow under the bed where he wouldn’t have to look at it. Jasper had asked about it earlier in an obvious effort to make Clint more comfortable but he hadn’t known what to say. Better keep things simple.

Straightening again, Clint looked around the room. It was pretty basic but he couldn’t imagine needing anything more. It had a bed, a desk and chair, a closet and shelves with books on it. A lot of books, actually, which was something Clint had already noticed in the living room. It made sense, with Jasper teaching English and all. That on top of everything else made Clint vaguely anxious – English was his worst subject.

Sitting gingerly on the bed, Clint looked out of the window. His room was on the side of the house and he didn’t realise at first that he was looking straight into the house next door. There was a boy who looked roughly his age sitting by the window, gnawing at a pencil while engrossed by something in front of him – homework, maybe? Clint couldn’t imagine ever being that fascinated by homework but to each his own, he supposed. The scene looked so normal that Clint was suddenly overcome with a longing so powerful that it made his eyes prickle. He hadn’t cried since he had left the hospital, but here and now he was suddenly overcome by everything he had gone through in the past few months. All the worry – all the stress – was weighing him down and he was exhausted.

Clint blinked and shook his head sharply, and the sudden movement or some sixth sense made the boy in the house next door glance up. He saw Clint and looked startled for a second but then he smiled and gave a little wave. Clint couldn’t remember the last time he had interacted with anyone so normally and the surprise made him look around to check whether there was anyone else the boy might be waving at. There wasn’t, of course, and he raised a hand to wave back tentatively. The boy’s smile widened and he quickly wrote something down before holding a block of paper up in front of him.

_“Hi! I’m Phil,”_ it said and Clint felt himself smile back involuntarily as he rummaged through his backpack for something to write on. 

_“Clint,”_ he wrote back and found himself at a loss to keep the conversation going. Luckily the other boy – Phil – didn’t seem to have that problem.

_“Do you live here now?”_

Clint shrugged a little. He supposed he did, however long it lasted.

_“Where do you go to school?”_

Clint hesitated. He didn’t want to answer because then Phil would know he was a freak but he didn’t want the conversation to end either, which it might anyway if he told him the truth. He was considering lying about it when he was saved from his dilemma: the boy turned his head sideways as if listening to something and when he turned back towards Clint, he mouthed an apology and left the room.

Clint felt oddly disappointed.

After dinner, Melinda and Jasper set down some ground rules, which he cautiously took as a good sign. They probably wouldn’t have bothered if they’d planned on sending him back straight away. 

The next day was Sunday and Clint mostly kept to his room, only leaving it for meals. He had hoped he would see the other boy again but he wasn’t there and the neighbours’ car was gone until late in the day. 

On Monday, Jasper drove him to school. Clint had hoped, in the distant part of his mind that still did, that he would have to transfer to a new school since it was farther away from their house than it had been from the Wilsons’, but Jasper had no early classes and assured him it was no trouble. 

“We don’t want you to lose all your friends,” he told Clint with a smile that said he meant well and Clint felt his shoulders droop a little as soon as Jasper had turned away. 

It took Clint a while to get used to the new house. Avoiding everyone had worked fine the last time around so he figured he would give it another go. After all, the less time he spent with Jasper and Melinda, the fewer opportunities they would have to notice that Clint didn’t really fit. But without two other kids in the house, Clint couldn’t disappear as easily as he had managed in the Wilson household, and as a teacher Jasper seemed to think it was his duty to show an interest in Clint’s coursework. The man always tried to draw him out with offers of food or drinks or movies, and Clint didn’t really know how to handle it. Jasper just wasn’t what he had expected. For an omega he was very bossy.

Melinda was a different story. She wasn’t exactly a warm and fuzzy person and she rarely talked to him, so at first Clint had thought she didn’t like him or didn’t want him around. There were pictures of her and Jasper around the house where she had a wide smile and looked like a different person, and he had figured maybe he was the reason why she didn’t smile so much anymore. He had done his best not to be a bother and stayed out of her way until he had realised it was just how she was with everyone. Melinda may not say much but she paid close attention to everything, always knowing when Clint or Jasper needed something before they did, and Clint thought maybe it was her way of showing she cared. 

Little by little, Clint found himself relaxing almost despite himself: as much as he was wary of the attention he was also starved for it. That only made him more determined to hide how school made him feel. For some strange reason Jasper and Melinda didn’t seem to realise how weird Clint was, in fact they seemed to actively want him around. The last thing Clint wanted was to point out how out-of-place he truly was in case it made them change their mind.

Then there was Phil. Whenever school was horrible, Clint had their almost daily interaction to look forward to. Phil didn’t care if Clint was an omega who didn’t fit in – because he didn’t _know_ Clint was an omega, a little voice inside Clint’s head insisted, but Clint only had one friend and he didn’t want to lose him. 

He had learned a lot of things about Phil over the past few weeks. They were the same age, though Phil would be turning 14 soon. He went to a mixed school where he played chess and soccer, and he was a big fan of Captain America. He had looked shocked when Clint had admitted he didn’t know who or what that was. A detailed explanation over many sheets of paper had followed, Phil’s handwriting getting smaller and smaller as he tried to cram more information into each until Clint was squinting and barely managing to read any of it. Clint wasn’t sure he got the appeal but if Phil liked them he thought he might like to read some of it someday.

Melinda was the one who noticed first, unsurprisingly. Clint overheard her and Jasper talking one evening, and he hovered in the staircase, listening.

“I worry about Clint,” Jasper was saying. “I don’t think he has any friend at school.”

A moment of silence, and then Jasper again:

“What?” Clint imagined Melinda had just shot him one of her _looks_. “You know something?”

“He’s been talking with the Coulson boy.”

“You mean Phil?”

Another silence, where Clint could just see Melinda shake her head because of course she meant Phil. There was no other boy next door, Phil only had sisters.

“How long has that been going on?” Jasper asked. He sounded relieved and Clint felt guilty for worrying him. And then he felt guilty for eavesdropping.

“A while, I think.”

“Good, that’s good. How have _you_ been doing? I know work has–”

Clint beat a hasty retreat to his room before he could hear more. That wasn’t any of his business.

Predictably Jasper brought the subject up the next day.

“You know, you can invite friends over if you want.”

Clint tensed. He definitely did _not_ want to invite Phil over because without the two panes of glass between them Phil would know and he wouldn’t want to be his friend anymore.

“It’s okay,” he mumbled.

Jasper opened his mouth to say more, but Melinda raised an eyebrow at him and he didn’t press the subject. Clint was relieved. 

The relief didn’t last long, however. The following Saturday, the doorbell rang. Clint was doing homework in his room and didn’t pay it much attention until Jasper called his name.

“Clint! It’s for you.”

Clint put his pen down and went downstairs, expecting it to be Sam paying them an unscheduled visit, but instead it was Phil, looking hopeful and a little awkward with a stack of comic books in his arms.

Clint froze like a deer caught in headlight, panic rising inside him. He could feel everyone’s expectant eyes on him and it was so much worse than school that he wanted to run back upstairs and lock himself in his room – anything to avoid the rejection that was sure to follow. Before he could though, he abruptly realised he couldn’t tell what Phil was despite standing right in front of him. Which could only mean Phil hadn’t presented yet and couldn’t tell about him either. The relief Clint felt was so great that he just stood there gaping at Phil for a long time until the other boy started to fidget.

“Hi, Clint,” he said before thrusting his bounty forward. “I brought you some Captain America comics.”

“Uh.” Clint said intelligently. “Thanks.”

He was still staring, too caught up with the reprieve he had just been granted to realise he was making Phil uncomfortable until the boy flushed and looked down at his shoes. “Right. I’ll just…”

“Do you want to come up to my room to read them with me?” he blurted out and Phil nodded eagerly.

“Sure.”

Clint grinned happily and belatedly looked over at Melinda and Jasper for permission.

“Do your parents know you’re here, Phil?” Jasper asked.

“Yes, Mr Sitwell. They said it was okay.”

“Good. Have fun, then.”

They scampered up to Clint’s room and Clint shoved his suppressants in a drawer before Phil could see. There was an awkward moment when they both realised it wasn’t like writing things on a piece of paper and they actually had to talk to one another, but luckily they had a ready subject:

“So this one is the first issue,” Phil said, brandishing a battered comic book as he sat down on Clint’s bed. “It’s not the best one but it’s pretty good. See, that’s Captain America and–”

It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

\---

Two months after he had moved in, Jasper had an early meeting and so Melinda drove Clint to school.

All he felt about school these days was resignation and a fierce desire that no one find out there was anything wrong. Because there wasn’t. _Clint_ was the one who was wrong, not the school. 

He was usually good at hiding how he felt but Melinda always saw too much and so on that day he found himself inexplicably jittery, legs bouncing uncontrollably as he drummed his fingers against his thigh. Melinda glanced at him from the corner of her eye with a slight frown, and Clint remembered what was at stake and forced himself to stop, going deathly still – so much so that by the time Melinda pulled up to the school, he was barely breathing.

“I’ll see you tonight,” she said and Clint forced a smile that felt more like a grimace. 

Her frown deepened. Desperate for her to go before she could put two and two together, Clint yanked the door open and scrambled out.

“Bye,” he said quickly, expecting her to leave, but she was looking at the other students walking through the gates and studiously ignoring Clint, and for a second there Clint wanted to cry. 

“Oh, hell,” he heard Melinda mutter through the open window, and then: “Clint! Get back in the car.”

He froze. “I’ve got classes.”

“You’re not going today. I’ll call the school,” she said firmly and he couldn’t get back in the car fast enough, almost sick with terror. He couldn’t even feel relief at the small respite from school he had just gotten – after all, he would have to go back the next day and nothing would have changed. For now, his mind was crowded with too many questions. Had Melinda figured it out? Did she want Clint to leave? _Why_ was she pulling him out of school? Was she in that much of a hurry to have him pack up his things and go?

They drove in silence until it became clear they weren’t heading back to the house and Clint forced himself to ask in a small voice:

“Where are we going?”

“You’re coming into work with me.”

More silence, then:

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on at school?” she said, keeping her voice light and her eyes on the road.

Clint chewed on his lower lip and stared out of the window. He could tell she had already figured it out, there was no point in lying.

He just hoped he would get to say goodbye to Phil first.

“It’s just… they’re all omegas and they all look like… And I’m…” He gestured at himself and looked away again. 

Melinda pulled the car over and turned towards him.

“Clint, there is nothing wrong with how you look.”

Clint wrapped his arms around himself and refused to meet her eyes. 

“Clint…”

“I don’t look like an omega,” he bit out.

“There is no right look for an omega – or for an alpha or a beta, for that matter.”

Clint shook his head and she sighed. 

“Maybe you don’t have the traditional look, but that’s okay. I meet a lot of omegas in my line of work and believe me when I say plenty of them don’t look like that either. Does Jasper?”

Clint shrugged. He didn’t, not really. But then he didn’t _not_ look like one either. 

“There are a few omegas in the police department,” she said, starting the car again. “You’ll see.”

Clint wanted to believe her, he really did. He just wasn’t sure he could. Then again he hadn’t known omegas could be police officers. What if Melinda was right?

The police station was something of an eye opener. There were a lot of alphas but as promised there were omegas too, some who looked like all the omegas Clint had ever met and some who didn’t. Regardless of their appearance, they all had that focused, professional look that Clint envied a little. They all seemed so sure of themselves, so confident. He wished he could be more like them and stop worrying about what everyone thought of him all the time. 

No one looked at him funny when he followed Melinda to her tiny office, though people were obviously curious. Melinda had cleared his presence with her captain and it soon felt like the whole precinct was finding excuses to show up in the evidence locker for a chat. That was where Melinda worked, although it was obvious from the way everyone interacted with her she hadn’t always. There was a mix of awe and respect in their eyes and Clint figured Melinda was probably the best cop ever. 

“Do you like being a cop?” he asked her hesitantly after a couple hours of people-watching and reading his school books.

“I’m not,” she said and Clint frowned. Of course she was. She worked at the police station, didn’t she?

“I used to be,” she elaborated when she saw his confusion. “This –” she gestured at her desk. “This is what I do now.”

“Oh.”

Clint wasn’t sure what the difference was – surely she could be both? All the other officers certainly seemed to think so and treated Melinda like one of their own. Then Clint thought of all the pictures of Melinda smiling and how she rarely did anymore, and he wondered if maybe something had happened and made her want not to talk or smile so much. Maybe it had made her not want to think of herself as a police officer too. That much Clint could understand.

Jasper showed up after lunch slightly out of breath and Melinda jerked her head towards the hallway. They talked quietly for a couple of minutes, Melinda’s body language tense and angry while Jasper’s went from relaxed to concerned and unhappy. Clint pretended he wasn’t looking and tried to make himself as small as possible – the last thing he wanted was to cause trouble between them.

“We’ll talk about it together tonight,” he heard Melinda say as they walked back into the room. Jasper looked as serious as Clint had ever seen him when he told Clint to get his things and he did so quickly.

The drive home was uncharacteristically silent and it wasn’t until they were home that Jasper turned towards him.

“Are you okay?” he asked and Clint opened his mouth to answer his usual way – _lie_ – except there was no point, was there? So he shrugged and left it at that, unable to put into words how utterly confused he felt at the moment.

“You know you can talk to me – us – about anything, right?”

Clint shrugged again and Jasper nodded as though he hadn’t expected any different. 

“Mel said you’ve been studying all day. Do you want to watch some TV?” Jasper sounded so hopeful that Clint didn’t have the heart to say no and go be by himself in his room. 

He settled on the couch with the remote while Jasper went into the study. He was supposed to be grading papers but he kept flitting in and out of the room, bringing Clint cookies and juice. Eventually though Clint’s eyes started to droop. He felt very tired, as though no longer having to hide what had been bothering him for months had lifted a huge weight from his shoulders, leaving only exhaustion behind. Unable to resist the pull any longer he closed his eyes and slept.

Clint woke up a couple of hours later when Melinda came home. He heard Jasper meet her at the door, heard them share a kiss, and he stayed where he was, pretending to still be asleep.

“He isn’t going back to that school,” Melinda stated.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Jasper was whispering and Clint thought they must be in the doorway, looking at him.

Melinda sighed. “You know how we were wondering if something was going on at school?”

“Of course. We have a meeting on Friday with the principal to talk about it.” That was news to Clint and he could hear the frown in Jasper’s voice as he spoke.

“Jasper, have you _seen_ the other students?”

“Well, yeah – some of them anyway, when I drop him off.”

“Did you notice how… _traditional_ they all are?”

Silence, then:

“Shit. _Shit_.” There was movement in the hallway and when Clint risked peeking through his eyelashes he saw Jasper was pacing. “I _knew_ he didn’t like going to school but I thought he was having a hard time adapting. That things would get better once he made friends. Shit.”

“We asked him. He said everything was fine.”

“But I’m a teacher, for god’s sake. I’m supposed to be trained to spot things like that. _And_ I’m an omega, and I drive him there every day. I can’t believe I didn’t realise– Jesus.”

“Blaming ourselves won’t help but I think you should talk to him. He seems persuaded that all omegas are supposed to be like the other kids at school and that he is wrong somehow.”

“Shit, that’s why he didn’t want to join the archery club, isn’t it?”

“Probably.”

Clint felt a lump in his throat at the reminder. Even now he still missed his bow. He had wanted to say yes when they had asked, but an omega didn’t need to know how to shoot and his shoulders were too wide already. 

Jasper sighed. “Okay, let’s make a plan. We can talk to Clint about it in the morning – and Sam too –, but the summer break is just a few weeks away. He could stay at home and we’ll make sure he catches up on whatever he needs to catch up. Then he’ll join SHIELD in the fall. What do you think?”

Clint didn’t hear Melinda’s answer and they moved deeper into the house after that, leaving him to try and sort his turbulent thoughts.

He wasn’t going back to school.

They didn’t think anything was wrong with him. 

They weren’t going to send him away.

This time he got to _stay_.

Clint pressed his face into the cushion and thought it felt like home.

\---

Melinda and Jasper did talk to him – at great length. It was a long and draining conversation that left Clint mentally exhausted and didn’t solve anything, but it was a step in the right direction. It would take time before he was fully convinced, but maybe that was okay. He did finally unpack his bag though, and Melinda smiled for real the next time she dropped by with his laundry.

Jasper set up targets in the backyard and bought some arrows – just in case Clint wanted to use them, he said, no pressure. Clint caught himself looking at them longingly a few times but he hadn’t tried them out yet. Soon, maybe. 

For the next month, he alternated between home with Jasper when the man wasn’t at work and the police station with Melinda when he was. They had asked him whether he’d prefer to go to Jasper’s school instead, maybe stay in the library, but the police station was the first place other than their house where Clint had felt truly accepted. He liked it there.

Phil’s birthday was at the beginning of July. He had a party at his house with his friends from school and invited Clint like it was the most obvious thing in the world. It was a big deal for Clint though and he felt like he was walking on air for days.

The day itself, however, didn’t exactly go as planned.

There were a lot of people there. 

Clint had known Phil had other friends, of course – he had even caught a glimpse of a couple of them when they had studied over at Phil’s – and why wouldn’t he? Clint was the weirdo with only one friend, not Phil. Still, Clint… Clint was a little jealous. He was used to having all of Phil’s attention to himself and not sharing him with anyone else. To see him surrounded by other people he also talked animatedly to and laughed with suddenly made their friendship not all that special.

Clint hovered in the background, trying to will himself to disappear into the wallpaper and hoping no one would notice him. He caught Phil’s eye a few times and forced a smile to pretend he was having fun but he wasn’t, not really. He didn’t think he had talked to anyone except Phil since he had gotten there, though that was probably his own fault. He still wasn’t entirely comfortable talking to people who’d know he was an omega.

Phil’s mom let him hide in the kitchen with her for a while until it was time to get the cake ready and she shooed him back to the living room with the others.

“Hey, Phil, who’s the omega?”

Clint tensed, hoping against hope that whoever had spoken wasn’t referring to him, but of course they were. With everyone’s attention suddenly on him, Clint felt all his insecurities rush back to the surface.

“Tony!” the girl next to ‘Tony’ said exasperatedly, elbowing him and making him squawk indignantly.

“What? He doesn’t go to SHIELD, does he? I was just asking.”

“Well, you don’t have to shout.”

The two bickered on and the other conversations picked up again. Clint stared at his feet, very conscious of the fact that his face was bright red. He was wondering whether Phil would mind – or even notice – if he went home now when the other boy appeared next to him.

“Sorry about Tony,” he said with an eye roll. “He’s an idiot. My parents said I had to invite him.”

Clint was so startled he forgot he was upset. Phil… Phil didn’t seem shocked or disgusted or even surprised. Had someone told him already? Did he just not care? How was that possible?

“Come on, I think it’s time for cake,” Phil said, tugging Clint forward with him, and Clint stumbled after him, sticking close as Phil introduced him to everyone.

The rest of the afternoon was a bit of a blur but it wasn’t so bad after all.

\---

With the summer holiday firmly upon them, Phil spent a lot of time at Clint’s. He said it was because he had three sisters who got on his nerves and Clint certainly didn’t protest. He liked having Phil around.

He was restringing his bow one morning when the bell rang. 

“Hi, Phil,” he heard Jasper say and Phil’s answering “Hello, Mr Sitwell” which was quickly followed by the clatter of footsteps on the stairs. Seconds later, Phil burst into the room and threw himself on the bed.

He didn’t say anything, just glared doggedly at the ceiling, and Clint didn’t ask, knowing Phil would talk eventually. 

“My sister presented this morning,” he finally said despondently. 

Clint winced. While he had once been selfishly glad that Phil was a late bloomer, he knew it was a sore subject for Phil. “She’s been on suppressants for six months and then this morning bam! She woke up being able to tell. I’ve been on them for almost two years and still nothing. It’s so unfair.”

“It’s really not that great,” Clint muttered, filing away the fact that Phil took suppressants for later – he was either an alpha or an omega, then. He kinda hoped he was an omega too, although that maybe wasn’t very fair. Phil would probably have an easier time as an alpha – or maybe it truly was the same and Clint was the one who had a hard time dealing with it. Either way, it wasn’t like he could just ask. There was this weird etiquette about not asking people who hadn’t presented yet.

Phil forgot he was supposed to be sulking for a second and raised himself to his elbows to look at Clint curiously. “Why not?”

Clint shrugged. He didn’t usually like talking about it – sure, things were okay now but they hadn’t been for a while – but he figured he could, for Phil.

“I couldn’t stay where I was living after I presented,” he said. He still missed the circus sometimes.

“Why not?”

Clint became very engrossed with his bow. He was done with it but it gave him something to do other than look at Phil’s curious face. “They didn’t want to keep an omega around. Said it wasn’t the right place for me.”

“That sucks,” Phil said philosophically. “Where did you live?”

“Uhm… I was with a circus?” Clint mumbled, feeling his cheeks grow hot.

Phil’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

Clint nodded.

“That is so _cool_.”

“You think?” Clint asked, a shy grin working its way on his face as Phil nodded enthusiastically.

“Still, you’re here now. That’s good, right?”

Clint considered it for a moment. “Yeah. I guess it is.” His smile grew less tentative and Phil grinned back at him, his bad mood momentarily forgotten.

“So what did you do? In the circus, I mean. Did you have an act or something? Were there lions?”

“Nah, no lion. There was an elephant though,” he said and watched Phil mouth ‘elephant’ with wonder. “I shot stuff with my bow.”

“Really? Can you show me?”

Clint blinked. “You want to?”

“Duh. Come on.” 

He jumped back to his feet and towed Clint to the backyard – not that Clint was resisting all that much. Phil’s enthusiasm was communicative and Clint forgot that he hadn’t used a bow in over six months, his apprehension vanishing in the excitement of the moment.

He grew nervous again when he found himself facing the target but for a brand new reason – what would Phil think if he _missed_? But he never missed and the distance was hardly a challenge, even without practice. He hit bull’s-eye after bull’s-eye, and when he ran out of arrows he was grinning, feeling more at peace with himself than he had in a long time.

“That was awesome,” Phil announced, a little breathless. “You could totally be a superhero.”

Clint’s grin widened – there was no higher praise in Phil’s book.

“Wanna try?” he asked and Phil nodded eagerly.

“Okay, so this is what you do,” he said, handing him his bow and talking him through it. He grew more confident as Phil followed his instructions and managed to hit the target. It wasn’t anywhere near the middle, but Clint still magnanimously declared it a good first try. 

The rest of the summer holiday passed quickly. Phil went away to camp at the end of July and Clint missed him terribly. He didn’t have much time to think about it though because they were going to visit Jasper’s sister in August before spending a week at Melinda’s parents’. The whole thing was freaking Clint out a little. They were all family but Clint wasn’t – was he?

It turned out he didn’t need to have worried. Jasper’s sister was a lot like him ramped to eleven. She talked a lot, her hands flying everywhere to make her point, and she had a lot of opinions about everything. She and her husband, both betas, had two kids under ten, and this contributed to a rather noisy household. Melinda grew more and more wooden as the days went by and Clint kinda understood how she felt. Anna meant well and had gone out of her way to make them feel welcome – Clint in particular – but it was still rather overwhelming. When things got too much, the two of them escaped to the car, taking a drive around town while Jasper and his sister caught up. Although Jasper had obviously developed a higher tolerance over time, even he seemed relieved to leave at the end of their stay.

Melinda’s parents were a different story altogether, a traditional alpha/omega pair who seemed just as comfortable sitting in silence as talking to each other. They were very curious about Clint but seemed reluctant to ask too many questions in case it made him uncomfortable. Jasper did most of the smoothing things over, pulling everyone out of their shell until they were comfortable with one another. The pictures from Melinda’s childhood helped too, much to her horror.

Whether it be Jasper’s or Melinda’s family, they all treated Clint like he was one of them. It was a little strange to have so many people paying attention to him and listening to what he had to say but it was kinda nice too. Still, Clint was glad when it was time to head home.

They had just pulled into the driveway when Phil appeared on his front porch. He looked extraordinarily pleased with himself and Clint saw his smile before he actually _saw_ him.

He blinked.

Well, that answered that question at least.

There was an awkward moment when they both just stared at one another before Melinda huffed a laugh and pushed past them with luggage, Jasper following close behind.

“I’ve got to grab my stuff,” Clint said, waving at the boot of the car before things could get any weirder.

“I’ve got the new Captain America,” Phil offered. He sounded a little tentative, like he thought maybe Clint wouldn’t want to spend time with him now, which was just stupid. 

“Great,” he said with a grin, and Phil relaxed.

“I’ll go get it,” he said and disappeared back into his house while Clint dragged his bag inside.

He was making his way up the stairs when Jasper called after him to tell him to leave his bedroom door open. It took Clint a few seconds to understand why, and he was still bright red when Phil showed up a couple of minutes later, brandishing his comics. Eventually, the normality of the situation helped settle them both and they turned their attention to their reading instead of shooting each other little looks from the corner of their eye.

The next day, Melinda and Jasper called Clint down to the kitchen for a ‘talk’ and Clint scrunched his face in horrified comprehension when what they wanted to talk about became clear.

It was the single most embarrassing moment of his life.

“Phil isn’t my boyfriend,” he stammered when they finished setting down a new set of rules and going over everything the doctor had told him at the hospital all those months ago.

“We’re not saying he is,” Jasper said. “It’s just that you’ll be 14 soon, and we need to be sure you know –”

“Is it because he’s an alpha?” Clint went on over Jasper’s explanation, too caught up in the fact that anyone would think they were to listen. Phil was his friend, he didn’t think of him that way. Did _Phil_ think of him this way? Did Phil think _Clint_ did? Wait… now he was just confusing himself. 

Melinda raised an eyebrow at him. “Clint, take a second to consider who you’re talking to. Do you honestly think the fact that he’s an alpha matters in this household?”

Clint swallowed and shook his head, and Melinda nodded in approval.

“We’re not saying anything is happening between you and Phil, or that anything will – or that you want it to. We just want you to have all the information you need when you decide you’re ready to start dating – which we hope won’t be for at least a couple of years.” She gave him a pointed look at that, and while Clint hadn’t thought it was possible for him to turn any redder, she had just proved him wrong.

To say that Clint didn’t how to behave around Phil over the next few days was an understatement. Then he realised he was making a big deal out of nothing and things pretty much went back to normal. 

Besides, Clint had bigger things to worry about. The school year was upon them and Clint couldn’t help being nervous. Sure, Phil would be there – and so would Jasper –, but Clint had been dismayed to find out they were a year apart. Since they had been the same age when they had met, he had simply assumed they would be in the same grade but the six months between them apparently meant they weren’t. It sucked.

With Phil starting high school, Clint wondered if he would have time for an 8th grader. Even if he did, the School for Harmonious and Integrated Education, Learning and Development – colloquially known as SHIELD by its students and staff – was a sprawling campus encompassing students from kindergarten to grade 12 and there was no way to tell if Clint would even see Phil around.

SHIELD, it turned out, was an okay place. Suppressants were mandatory for alphas and omegas – both students and staff – so at least they didn’t have to worry about someone accidentally going into rut or heat in the middle of class. For the first few days Clint couldn’t stop staring at everyone, especially omegas. They all looked so different! Granted, some were still pretty and soft and giggled whenever an alpha walked by but there were others too who liked sport or science and no one cared.

Well, that wasn’t quite true. Some people cared.

Being a mixed school didn’t make SHIELD prejudice-free. The school hierarchy was pretty clear cut, with a handful of alphas and omegas at the top, each in their own role. They were mostly assholes, Clint quickly found out, full of themselves and intolerant of anyone who didn’t conform with their idea of normal – not just omegas but alphas and betas too. They were worse with their own, as if by being different they somehow impugned the honour of their whole gender. It was rough at first, but Clint quickly learned to stay clear of them.

It helped that Phil quickly proved he had been worrying over nothing as far as their continuing friendship was concerned, showing up at the end of Clint’s first morning to drag him to lunch.

Clint even managed to make a friend of his own, a girl who was as good with a bow as he was. He felt kinda proud about that. He had met Kate at the archery club after a couple of alphas on the team had taken exception to Clint being better at it than them. They cornered him after practice, no doubt eager to teach him a lesson, and Kate decided to make it her problem as well. 

They all ended in the principal’s office where the two alphas were reprimanded, and through it all Clint glared daggers at her for intervening. 

“What is your problem?” she asked him afterwards.

“I can take care of myself!” Clint said, his voice just shy of a yell. “Just because I’m an omega doesn’t mean–” 

“I don’t care if you’re an omega,” she snorted. “Those guys are assholes. Do you think they like it any better when a _beta_ is better than them?” She added bitterly and Clint could maybe see her point. 

“Okay, fine. Thank for the help back there,” he said almost reluctantly.

“You’re welcome. We’ve got better odds at two against two. Besides, you’re the only one on the team who can get anywhere near my scores, it’d have given me an unfair advantage if they had messed you up.”

“My scores are higher than yours!” Clint protested, a little affronted. 

She grinned. “Prove it.”

They were fast friends from then on.

But another consequence of having a mixed population of students was the gossip and it seemed no one could simply be friends with anyone. Clint honestly couldn’t fathom why everyone was so interested in who was dating whom, but omegas in particular were targeted as prime gossip material. If one spent time with an alpha of course they _had_ to be together, and if one was seen with more than one alpha then they were obviously an easy lay. No one cared much if they spend time with betas – unless they spent too much time with one in particular, in which case there was clearly something wrong with them. This, of course, meant he and Phil were a couple or he and Kate were, depending on whom you asked. The logic was mindboggling to Clint. Why was it so hard for people to believe they were friends? 

(Did it have something to do with him?) 

Still, most of the time he ignored it to focus on the good things. He had Melinda and Jasper, and he had Phil, and he had Kate. He had family and friends.

Life was pretty good.

\---

A year after he had moved in, Jasper and Melinda asked Clint if they could adopt him. He said yes, because at that point anything else would have been incomprehensible, and then walked around in a state of shock for a few days. When he finally came out of it he felt more settled than he ever remembered being.

Another year went by. Now a freshman, Clint had to deal with something new: Phil was mooning over a girl, a pretty beta who had been his lab partner since forever. Because it was Phil, you couldn’t tell he was actually interested but Clint was more observant that the average just-turned-15 teenager. That and Phil wouldn’t stop talking about how great and smart she was.

She was the reason why Clint was currently _not_ working on his English essay and was instead listening to Phil dissecting at great length his latest interaction with Becky. 

“Why don’t you ask her out?” Clint finally asked because it seemed like the obvious solution to Phil’s problem. But apparently it wasn’t that simple, or so said Phil’s somewhat dubious look.

“But what if she says no?”

“She’s not going to say no.” Duh. Anyone with eyes would know that – so would Phil, usually. It seemed having a crush had gotten his brain all muddled up and made him lose all confidence and aplomb. Clint was in no hurry of _that_ happening to him and he silently vowed to himself that he wouldn’t be that bad when he’d fall in love. Seriously, it was embarrassing.

“You’re my best friend, you have to say that,” Phil grumbled and Clint ducked his head at the by-now familiar thrill of happiness he felt whenever Phil called him his best friend. But back on point:

“I’ve seen her looking at you,” he offered. It was true and if there was one ounce of the _real_ Phil left he would react to ‘proof’ better than to meaningless reassurances. And indeed that seemed to perk him right up.

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Good, that’s good.”

Thinking the matter resolved, Clint went back to his essay. 

“So I just… ask her out.”

Or maybe not just yet.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Why are you asking me?” Clint frowned. It was not one of his areas of expertise and Phil knew it. “Can’t you ask one of your sisters?”

He made a face. “No way. If I do my parents will know all about it within the next five minutes.”

“Just… ask her if she wants to go see a movie or something. Isn’t that what people do?”

“I guess.”

“Well, there you go.”

Phil thought about it for a while, no doubt rehashing any and all conversations he had ever had with Becky for any clue that she absolutely despised movies and coming up empty judging by his smile. “I’ll do that, thanks!”

He grabbed his bag and started shoving things into it.

“I didn’t mean _now_!” Clint protested – it was Sunday, did Phil even know where she lived? It would be a little creepy if he showed up at her house like that.

“I’ve got to prepare for tomorrow,” Phil said seriously and Clint barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Well, good luck then!” he called after Phil as he hurried out and went back to his essay with a snort.

Love was so stupid.

A month later, he was regretting ever having given advice to Phil.

Phil had followed it to the letter and of course Becky had said yes. Now the two of them were dating and it was definitely not okay.

Clint had always been possessive of Phil’s time – not _all_ his time, obviously, he wasn’t that much of a freak. Phil had other friends and so had Clint, and they were hardly joined at the hip. But they did have their habits, like eating together on the two days a week where they shared the same lunch hour, meeting up on the evenings of a new Captain America release, or spending their Sunday afternoon together even if all they did was homework. So when Phil started repeatedly cancelling their usual time together to be with Becky, Clint had a hard time dealing. 

It wasn’t jealousy, not really. Clint liked Becky and he liked that Phil was so happy. What he didn’t like was how easy it seemed to be for Phil to ignore him, how obvious it was that he didn’t miss Clint nearly as much as Clint missed him. Not that it was just Clint that Phil was spending less time with – just the other day Maria had said something about never seeing him around anymore. But Clint, well, Clint was supposed to be his _best friend_ , surely that made him special.

Right?

Well, not so much, as it turned out. That made him a little sad, like he wasn’t worth Phil’s time anymore. Old insecurities resurfaced briefly before he managed to fight them back. This wasn’t about him, it was about Phil and Becky. While that realisation helped a lot, it also somehow made it worse because it meant there was nothing Clint could do to make things better. Nothing he could fix.

And since he would never dream of demanding that Phil spend time with him, all he could do was wait.

He moped around the house until Jasper cornered him in the kitchen one day and sat him down.

“Is everything okay, Clint?”

He shrugged.

“We haven’t seen Phil in a while. Is everything good between you two?” Jasper pressed and Melinda looked away from the kettle to offer her two cents:

“Phil’s got a girlfriend.”

“Ah.”

Clint crossed his arms over his chest and slumped down in his chair.

“It’s okay to miss him, you know.”

Clint looked up almost despite himself at that. Truth be told, he hadn’t known. Sure, Tony became a royal pain in the ass whenever Rhodey ignored him regardless of where Tony’s weird relationship with Pepper was at, but that was Tony. The guy was hardly normal.

“I just want her to go away so things can go back to the way they were,” he mumbled.

Jasper smiled at him with commiseration. 

“I know the feeling,” he said, and Clint looked at him hopefully.

“Yeah?”

“It gets better. It’s Phil’s first serious girlfriend, right?”

Clint nodded.

“They probably want to spend all their time together right now because it’s new and exciting, but give it time. Phil will remember spending time with his friends is important too. Maybe it won’t be exactly like before but I’m sure things will settle down soon.”

Jasper was right. Eventually Phil began spending time with Clint and the rest of his friends again. Sometimes Becky was there, sometimes she wasn’t, but that was okay. Clint was getting used to her and he had Phil back, which was all that really mattered.

Then the two of them broke up just before the summer vacation and Clint felt incredibly relieved.

His relief, however, was only temporary as the start of his sophomore year brought a new challenge in the form of one Steve Rogers.

Clint knew who Steve was, everyone did. Back when Clint had been in 8th grade, Steve and his best friend, Bucky – both students at SHIELD and a year above Phil – had been in a car accident. Bucky had lost an arm and Steve had been in a coma for a while – some said a couple of months, some said a year – before he woke up. According to the gossip mill, Steve had dragged Bucky out of the car before going back for Bucky’s mom and the car had exploded when he had still been too close, knocking him out almost for good. It had been, everyone agreed, nothing sort of heroic and something of a miracle too, considering how scrawny Steve had been at the time of the accident.

It was hard to look at Steve now and imagine him as scrawny. Some students whispered the doctors must have given him _something_ to make him look like that but that was just stupid. It must have taken him months of PT to get back to normal after he had woken up and if he had wanted to keep up with it after that, Clint said good for him.

Or at least that was what he said until he realised Phil looked at Steve like he hung the moon. Then it became very much _not_ okay.

He got it though. Despite everything he had gone through, Steve was funny and kind and smart and artistic – really, the list went on and on –, with a strong sense of right and wrong that sometimes got him into trouble and he hadn’t even waited to become big and strong for that. He was like a real-life Captain America – hell, he even looked like him – and it was no wonder Phil liked him. 

Steve was also an omega and stupidly perfect despite his size, and Clint thought it was all blatantly unfair.

And nothing like watching Phil and Becky together.

Clint was forced to admit – if only to himself – that his feelings for Phil had changed. He wasn’t sure when it had happened or how or why but that at some point between listening to Phil wax poetic about Becky and now, the thought of Phil wanting to date someone else was no longer welcome. Clint woke up from dreams involving his best friend with sticky boxers and whenever he jerked off Phil was all he could think about, his mind always going back to him as he felt himself get a little wet. That made spending time with Phil kind of awkward, with Clint half-terrified of getting an erection at the wrong moment, but at the same time not spending time with Phil felt much worse. It was all very strange and Clint had no idea how to deal with it.

He felt so confused and the worst part was he couldn’t even talk to Phil about it. He had always been able to go to him and tell him everything that was on his mind but that wasn’t an option anymore. Clint missed that. 

He supposed he could have taken his own advice, scrounged up his courage and asked Phil out, but he was slowly realising it wasn’t as simple as that. He had years of friendship in the balance and he was afraid of what would happen if Phil said no – because he would say no, right? If Phil liked him that way, surely Clint would have noticed by now. Wait, did that mean _Phil_ had noticed how Clint felt? He really hoped not.

The whole thing would have been a lot easier without Steve Rogers constantly reminding him he would never be good enough.

Clint wasn’t proud of it. Steve was so _nice_ and he definitely deserved a break. But it was hard to watch Phil blush and get all tongue-tied around him. Clint tried not to let it show because the last thing he needed was Phil thinking he hated the guy. He didn’t, okay? It was just… complicated.

He knew it was stupid. Steve was friendly but it was hard to tell if he was interested in Phil or not. And Clint couldn’t even tell whether _Phil_ actually had a crush on him or if it was some weird projected Captain America hero worship. Not that it mattered either way: in the end, Phil simply wasn’t interested in Clint.

That didn’t do anything good to Clint’s self-esteem and he struggled a little, wondering around the house aimlessly and spending more time with Kate who thought he was being ridiculous. Melinda and Jasper figured it out – of course they did – and refused to let him flounder. It helped to have them around, even if they kinda had to say nice things to him. They were his parents after all. Maybe another 15 year old would have scoffed at that but Clint hadn’t had them for that long and he wasn’t ready to throw them aside just yet, mandatory teenage rebellion or not.

Of course, not all advice was welcomed.

“There will be other boys, Clint,” Jasper told him one day. “I know it doesn’t feel like it now but you’re going to meet so many people in your life. You’ll fall in love with someone else.”

“I’m not in love with anyone _now_ ,” Clint muttered and Jasper dropped the subject. 

Clint wasn’t sure he believed him anyway.

He was still torn between avoiding Phil and spending all his time with him but of course Phil hadn’t gotten that memo. He was completely oblivious and that pissed Clint off a little. It was _Phil_. He knew everything. Why couldn’t he figure it out and fix everything? Or, you know, at least put Clint out of his misery?

One evening, fed up with the whole thing, Clint closed his book with a loud thump and glared at him.

“Why don’t you ask him out already?” he asked and Phil looked honestly confused.

“Asked who out?” he said.

“ _Steve_.”

Phil flushed pink. “I don’t want to ask him out. I’ve got to focus on school and college applications.”

Momentarily derailed, Clint blurted out: “Already?” Phil was a junior, college was miles away.

“Yeah, I’m meeting with the guidance counsellor next week, we’re going to go over schools.”

“Right.”

Clint glared at his textbook unhappily. Of course Phil was going to go to college. He was too smart not to and Clint knew he had wanted to study history for as long as he had known him. It wasn’t like he had expected him to change his mind, but still. He didn’t want to think about him leaving.

“What about you?” Phil asked suddenly and Clint looked up to find him seemingly absorbed with his pencil.

“What about me?”

“Is there anyone you like at school?”

Clint shrugged. “Not really,” he mumbled, all the while feeling his face change colour and hating more than ever that he could turn bright red at the drop of a hat. 

He was pretty sure Phil caught the lie but thankfully he didn’t press for more details. They went back to doing homework, studiously avoiding each other’s eyes. 

By the time his birthday came around, Clint was on a more even keel. He was still pining – he had heard Jasper describe it like that once and it had stuck – but he had gotten used to it. Phil was still his best friend and Clint wasn’t going to let anything interfere with that, least of all himself. Besides, Phil had been spending a lot of with him lately – maybe he had noticed Clint had been a little down – and he had gotten better around Steve. 

The same, however, couldn’t be said about his relationship with Bucky.

While Steve had been incorporated smoothly into Phil’s group of friends when he had been held back a year after the accident, Bucky had made it a point to remain an outsider – a little like Clint, although in his case it was by virtue of being in a different grade and having his own group of friends. In the early days, back when Phil had spent most of his time with Steve, this had meant that whenever Clint had hung out with Phil and his friends, he and Bucky had tended to gravitate together as the odd ones out.

Bucky, it turned out, was angry a lot and at a lot of things. He covered most of it by pretending he didn’t care, a coping mechanism Clint was intimately familiar with, although Bucky wasn’t very good at it – or maybe he was too angry to make it work. He also didn’t like Phil very much, which Clint quickly picked up on. As a result, the first few months of what eventually developed into a tentative friendship had been rocky at best, Clint and Bucky snapping and snarking at each other continuously. Tony had called it their mating song and Phil had threatened to taze him if he didn’t shut up. Clint though had ignored him – he liked Bucky and he didn’t care what anyone thought. Besides, the guy was a pretty good shot with his artificial arm and it was nice to have some new blood at the archery club – Clint’s friendly rivalry with Kate could certainly use some spice.

Phil though… Phil didn’t like Bucky and Clint wasn’t sure why. At first he had figured it was because he was another alpha who was always with Steve but as time went by he didn’t know anymore.

Everything came to a head at the archery state championship in March. Clint had won first place with Bucky placing third, and after they received their trophy Bucky wrapped his arms around him and lifted him up in the air in a bear hug. Clint laughed and hugged him back. It was the first time he had seen Bucky genuinely happy and when the other boy put him down there was a devilish grin lurking on his face.

“Don’t you dare!” Clint told him but Bucky didn’t listen, pulling him close to drop a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Clint made a face and pushed him back, wiping his face exaggeratedly.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Bucky said, laughing as he took another step towards Clint.

“So that’s how it is,” someone said loudly.

There was a beat of confused stillness before they all turned towards the voice, the alpha senior who had come second.

“Fucking your way to the top like a good little omega – not that you’re much of one, what with the way you look.”

“Fuck off,” Clint snarled. He hated sore losers. 

“But I didn’t get my fuck yet,” he taunted. “Guess you were too busy with all the judges and your little boyfriend there. Did they fuck you with their eyes closed? I guess any hole will do.”

Clint’s hands balled into fists as he felt his face burn with embarrassment. Walk away, he told himself, just walk away. But his legs felt like lead and he couldn’t move.

“Yeah, well I still beat you, didn’t I?” he said because at least his mouth still worked just fine.

The guy took a menacing step towards him and then Phil was right there, stepping between them and shoving him back.

The other alpha looked comically surprised. “What’s your problem?” 

“You are.”

A loud whistle from the spectators stand broke up the fight before it could even start and they all looked up to see Melinda striding towards them. 

“You,” she pointed at the alpha. “Sit your ass down.” 

He opened his mouth – probably to say something stupid about betas not giving him orders – but her glare convinced him otherwise. Jasper was hurrying in their direction too, having made a detour to grab the head of the organisation committee and the other guy’s coach. The mood had drastically changed, no longer the relaxed atmosphere it had been less than a minute ago, and Clint’s victory now tasted sour in his mouth. He stalked off angrily towards the exit, unable to deal with the way everyone was staring at him.

Melinda said his name sharply and then there were running footsteps behind him but Clint didn’t slow down, not until he had reached the parking lot. Only then did he turn around, a little surprised to see Phil. 

Phil. 

Clint was pissed at him too for stepping in like Clint couldn’t handle himself – or maybe he wasn’t, not really, but Phil sure made a convenient target. He was there, after all.

“What the fuck, Phil?” he shouted. “I can take care of myself!”

Phil took a step back, clearly not expecting his outburst.

“I know you can,” he said, trying for conciliatory, but Clint wasn’t in the mood to be soothed. “That guy was being an asshole. He’s going to be suspended.”

“Yeah? And what’s that going to change?” Clint asked bitterly.

Phil looked at the ground. “I’m sorry.”

Just like that, Clint deflated, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “No, don’t… don’t apologise, okay?”

A tense silence followed until Phil gave a short nod.

“Do you want me to get Bucky?” he asked and Clint had to blink at the non-sequitur. 

“What does Bucky have to do with anything?” he said, genuinely confused.

“Well, aren’t you and him–” Phil trailed off, gesturing awkwardly, and it took Clint a few seconds to understand what he meant.

He couldn’t help it, he laughed. And then stopped at the hurt look Phil shot his way.

“Phil, Bucky and I aren’t together. I would have told you if we were.” Duh. “Besides, Bucky isn’t interested in me like that.”

Phil frowned. “Why not?”

What the– “Why isn’t he interested? I don’t know!”

Phil looked crest-fallen and Clint had absolutely no idea what was going on. Also he was pretty sure Melinda and Jasper were going to burst through the doors any second now to check on him and he really needed to know what was going on inside Phil’s head. 

“Look, Phil, what’s going on?”

“If you like him, you should–”

“Wait, wait, wait. You think I like Bucky?”

It was Phil’s turn to look confused. “You don’t?”

“Well, sure I do, he’s my friend. But I don’t _like_ like him, if that’s what you mean.” And great, now Clint was started to sound like a twelve year old.

“Oh. That’s… good.”

Clint blinked, and a new-found confidence blossomed in his chest. Because there was a very simple explanation for Phil’s behaviour if Clint let himself believe it. After all, it was remarkably similar to his own during the whole Steve debacle, and:

“Why is it good?” he asked, taking a tentative step closer. 

Phil straightened, squaring his shoulders determinedly. “ _I_ like you. I like you and I can’t stop thinking about you and I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to ruin everything and I thought you and Bucky –”

“Phil.” Clint interrupted the flow of words before he got too rambly and Phil’s mouth clicked shut as he looked at Clint with a mix of hope and terror. “Ask me if I want to go see a movie with you.”

Phil’s smile transformed his face into something beautiful, his eyes crinkling around the corners, and Clint smiled back helplessly.

“Clint. Would you like to go see a movie with me?”

“Yes, Phil, I would love to.”

They were still staring at each other like the besotted idiots they were when Melinda and Jasper turned up with the rest of the gang in tow. Melinda gave Phil a pointed look that made him fidget a little and Jasper hugged Clint, muttering about idiot alpha teenagers – _probably_ not about Phil –, and Clint, well. 

Despite everything, Clint couldn’t stop smiling.

\---

They did go to the movies. Truth be told, Clint didn’t remember a lot about the film itself because at some point during the trailers Phil cautiously took his hand and laced their fingers together, and that was all Clint could think about for a while – until he realised the couple two rows ahead was making out rather enthusiastically and then _that_ became his new obsession. He glanced at Phil surreptitiously, trying to see if he had noticed, and saw he was looking too. 

Maybe…

“Phil,” he whispered, leaning towards him so he would hear. He hadn’t meant to get so close – had he? – but somehow he had and when Phil turned his head towards him, their noses bumped together.

They both froze, staring at each other’s mouth, and:

“Can I kiss you?” Phil said and Clint nodded dumbly, watching entranced as Phil licked his lips. 

It occurred to Clint a second too late that maybe he should have done the same but then Phil’s mouth was brushing against his, soft and a little hesitant until Clint pressed back and Phil grew bolder. It was better than everything Clint had ever imagined and he barely bit back a whimper when Phil ran his tongue over Clint’s lower lip. Clint may not have kissed anyone before but he had seen enough movies to know what to do next. He opened his mouth and that was all the invitation Phil needed to thrust his tongue inside.

Clint moaned loudly.

“Shhh,” Phil said, pulling back and furtively glancing around to see if the noise had attracted anyone’s attention. It hadn’t. 

“We’ve got to be quiet,” he added anyway, looking flushed and breathing a little fast, and Clint nodded frantically – yes, yes, he could be quiet.

He leaned back into Phil to recapture his mouth so that he was the one kissing him this time, more eagerness than skills but Phil didn’t seem to mind, kissing him back just as enthusiastically. Clint never wanted to stop, but eventually it got to the point where he knew they had to or things would get very embarrassing. He pulled away reluctantly and found himself caught in the sight of Phil instead, amazed that they were finally here.

“We’re missing the movie,” he whispered and Phil smiled, his eyes crinkling in that way Clint loved. He kissed his cheek quickly before resolutely turning back towards the screen. A second later, Phil did the same, reaching out for his hand again, and Clint felt so happy he thought his smile would split his face in two.

For days and weeks Clint felt like he was walking on air. He and Phil stole kisses whenever they could and quickly grew bolder, making out in whichever bedroom they were in while keeping an ear out for parents or sisters. The adults weren’t duped but they seemed to be in a mind-set of resigned acceptance. _“Better at home than in the back of a car,”_ Clint had overheard Melinda say one evening and he had promptly run away to die of embarrassment in his room as soon as he had understood what she was talking about. He really didn’t want to listen to his parents discussing his sex life. 

Not that he had much of one yet. 

In fact, the first time he and Phil had sex was almost an accident. It was date night and Melinda and Jasper had gone out for dinner, which meant Clint and Phil were making out on the couch instead of watching a DVD like they were supposed to. 

They started sitting side by side, but the angle was awkward and putting a crick in Clint’s neck. After some manoeuvring, he dragged Phil on top of him so that they were face to face and the other boy straddled his thighs. It was much better and they traded lazy kisses that had none of their usual urgency. For once, they had all the time in the world. 

Things eventually got hot and heavy – they were teenagers, after all – and Clint found himself getting hard. It had been happening with increasing frequency when he was with Phil and was a source of endless embarrassment. The last thing he wanted was to freak Phil out and so he tried to keep his lower body away from Phil so he wouldn’t notice. That turned out to be easier than it should have been and a quick glance down told him why. Phil appeared to be in the same predicament he was, doing his best to keep his hips angled away from Clint.

The knowledge that he had made Phil hard made something inside Clint clench helplessly and he surged against him, pressing back blindly against Phil’s mouth. The sudden movement caught Phil off guard and he almost fell off Clint’s lap, Clint’s fast reflexes rescuing him at the last second with the unintended consequence of pulling their bodies flushed against each other – all over.

Phil groaned and grinded down against him – and oh, that felt _good_ – and then, to Clint’s dismay, froze.

“Sor–” Phil started to apologise but Clint cut him off with a sound kiss.

“Again,” he said breathlessly.

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

There wasn’t much talking after that, just the two of them panting against each other’s mouth as they thrust and grinded and tried to make the other feel as good as they did, until even that disappeared in the race towards the finish line. Everything felt so good and Clint wasn’t sure how it was even possible but he didn’t care because Phil was right there those making helpless little sounds and–

Things got a bit blurred when Clint came, eyes closed and head thrown back, and it didn’t take long before Phil was following suit and slumped against him. 

“I hadn’t done that before,” Phil confessed after their laboured breathing had returned to normal.

“Me neither,” Clint said, though Phil probably knew that already. 

Phil pulled back a little and frowned comically at the wet spot on his jeans. Clint grinned, inexplicably elated, though his own boxers felt kinda gross, sticky at the front and back – shit, he hoped he wasn’t leaving a mark on the couch.

“I can lend you some pants if you want,” he said and Phil nodded gratefully. No doubt he didn’t want to go home and risk running into anyone like that. 

They disentangled themselves from each other slowly and went upstairs, Clint changing in his bedroom while Phil went to the bathroom, neither of them quite ready to get undressed in front of the other just yet.

It was weird to imagine Phil in Clint’s boxers and pants but considering what they had just been up to maybe it shouldn’t be. At least they had managed to find a pair of jeans that fit Phil okay, and as long as no one looked at them too closely they probably wouldn’t notice anything amiss. 

Phil bundled his clothes into his backpack and they went back downstairs. By the time Melinda and Jasper came home they were back on the couch, holding hands innocently. They probably didn’t fool anyone, but Clint was too happy to care.

The next time was more deliberate. They were in Phil’s bedroom, his house much less crowded now that two of his sisters had left for college. On this particular day, Phil’s parents were driving his younger sister to her volleyball competition and Clint and Phil had showed just enough fortitude to finish their more pressing homework before migrating to the bed, the two of them lying side by side and kissing softly until:

“You want to?” Clint asked, his fingers playing with Phil’s waistband, and Phil nodded eagerly.

It didn’t take long to push their jeans and underwear down far enough to allow them access. They took a few seconds to study each other and then Clint, feeling bold, wrapped his hand around Phil’s cock. Phil gasped and reciprocated, and fuck, how could that feel so different from his own hand? 

They started slowly and quickly picked up the pace as they both gained assurance, pre-come making everything easier. It felt so amazing that Clint even forgot he could be kissing Phil, too caught up in watching instead. That was Phil’s cock and Phil’s hand on _his_ cock, and Clint found himself making noises he had never made before, breathy whimpers that turned into full-blown moans as he got closer and closer to the brink, culminating in a shout that he buried into Phil’s shoulder, overwhelmed. 

It took him a while afterwards to remember he had been jerking Phil off and longer still to get his hand to start moving again, determined to make Phil come.

“Clint, ClintClint _Clint_ ,” Phil babbled at each pull of Clint’s hand, and Clint took advantage of the fact that he could now string two thoughts together to kiss him, making it as hot and dirty as he knew how even with Phil’s sudden lack of coordination.

“Come on, come on,” he said, both encouragement and order, and Phil clutched at his back and came, leaving Clint to feel inordinarily proud of himself.

And so it went on. They weren’t particularly subtle about it and Clint earned himself another embarrassing talk with Melinda and Jasper, which he recounted to Phil in great detail – no point in being the only one to suffer here. Phil retaliated with a rendering of his parents’ own version, and Clint groaned and buried his face into his pillow before deciding he could put it to better use and pummelled Phil with it. 

However, whatever embarrassment they may have felt at the thought that their families knew exactly what they were getting up to wasn’t enough to stop them and every occasion soon became an opportunity to experiment with their bodies. It wasn’t always successful and they learned what worked and what didn’t for them – separate and together –, but it was always fun.

Clint’s first attempt at a blowjob was one such learning experience and a particularly messy one at that. All he had to rely on was how good it had felt when Phil had done it to him and so he set out to do his best to replicate it. As it turned out, he was a little too good at it and Phil only remembered to warn him he was close at the very last second. Clint didn’t move out of the way quickly enough, resulting in Phil coming all over his face with a loud groan. Clint was so shocked his mouth opened in a silent ‘o’ as more come painted his lips, and when he looked up at Phil, there was a deep primal – _alpha_ – satisfaction in his eyes that made Clint’s heart pound. Then Phil blinked and the moment was gone, the other boy turning beet red.

“Shit, Clint, I’m so sorry,” he said, attempting to clean Clint’s face with his fingers before realising he was only making a bigger mess and grabbing a tissue instead.

Clint still hadn’t moved from his position on the floor and so Phil kneeled next to him, wiping his face with quick, jerky motions. He looked positively mortified and Clint decided it wasn’t a good look on him at all. Besides, if he was perfectly honest it had been kind of hot to make Phil lose control like that.

“Sorry,” Phil said again, quieter this time as his movements slowed, and Clint made sure he was looking at him before he deliberately licked his lips to get a taste – actually it wasn’t that bad, maybe he would try swallowing next time. The action made Phil’s eyes go huge and he crashed into Clint in an effort to kiss him senseless, sending the two of them sprawling on the floor.

All in all, not bad for a first try, really.

\---

At the end of the school year, Melinda and Jasper decided to have Phil over for dinner.

“It’s been a while,” Melinda said pointedly and Clint had no choice but to pass on the invitation, hoping they would behave themselves.

He didn’t need to have worried. Dinner went very well, the discussion centring on school and how Phil’s sisters were doing – until dessert, when Jasper asked Phil what his plans for the summer were.

“I’m going to look at campuses again – I already went with my parents in April but I wanted to take another look by myself,” Phil explained, the excitement barely contained in his voice. “Then I guess I’ve got to start writing my application essays.” He didn’t sound nearly as enthused about that, and Jasper segued into talking about _his_ application essays, the conversation getting very college-oriented. 

Clint pushed the food around on his plate and tried not to let it bother him. He always felt vaguely anxious when Phil talked about college, keenly aware that he wouldn’t be there with him, stuck in high school instead. Thinking about it had been bad enough back when they had just been friends, but now… Well, now it felt like he had so much more to lose.

He was almost relieved when Phil went home, and he escaped to his room as soon as he had finished clearing the table.

Melinda found him huddled on his bed half an hour later. He heard her sigh and then the bed dipped as she sat next to him.

“Clint, you need to accept that Phil is going to go to college.”

“I know he is,” Clint muttered. That was the whole problem.

“You know it but you don’t accept it.”

“So what?” Clint rolled onto his back and looked at her incredulously. “I’m supposed to be happy that he’s going to go away and leave me behind?”

“You don’t know what will happen,” she said sternly and Clint looked away. “Maybe you guys will break up or maybe you won’t. Either way, if you keep worrying about it now instead of enjoying what you have, you’ll end up resenting him and that will make both of you miserable.”

Okay, Clint could see her point. 

“Phil being excited about it doesn’t mean he isn’t going to miss you when he goes,” she added, hitting right on target. 

“Yeah?” His voice wobbled a little and Melinda ruffled his hair.

“You know him better than I do. What do you think?”

He nodded. “I’ll try.”

“Good.” She kissed the top of his head and left him alone.

Clint sat up, trying to sort his thoughts out. The curtains to Phil’s bedroom were closed but that was okay. Clint needed to think. 

Intellectually he knew Melinda was right. He couldn’t worry about Phil going to college now. It was still over a year away, who knew what would happen in the meantime? Not that thinking they might break up before it all came to pass helped any, but still. Clint would have to try to stay focused on the present, and when he failed he could always count the days between the school breaks during which Phil would come and visit. It would only be one year, after all, and then Clint could join Phil wherever he ended up.

They would make it work. 

After all, Clint didn’t _need_ to go to college. Phil always said he should become a professional archer and win the Olympics, and while that may sound tempting sometimes, what Clint really wanted to do was to become a cop. He hadn’t told Phil yet, and he hadn’t told Melinda and Jasper. It just wasn’t the right time: Melinda had just gone back into the field and things were a little tense at the moment. Jasper worried, and so Clint worried too, and he didn’t want to add to the general anxiety by announcing that he planned on putting them through that with him too.

The good thing was, he didn’t need to go to college to join the police academy, though he couldn’t apply until he was 21 either. He wasn’t sure what he’d do ‘til then. Melinda and Jasper would probably insist he go to college anyway and he could probably get an archery scholarship if he won Nationals again next year. Or maybe he could find a job somewhere, teach archery to kids or something – he would worry about that later. 

Either way, he could be with Phil and everything would be as it was now.

By the time Phil came back from his campus tour, Clint had more or less gotten his mind around things. But he must have been a little quiet when they had talked on the phone during his trip and Phil must have noticed because after a thoroughly mutually enjoyable handjob against Clint’s bedroom door, they stumbled onto the bed to catch their breath and Phil wrapped himself around Clint.

“You okay?” he asked and Clint wormed himself closer.

“Yeah. I just missed you, is all,” he said and resolutely did not think about how much he would miss Phil when he went away for real.

“Me too.”

Silence followed, the atmosphere suddenly heavy and almost sombre, until Clint cleared his throat:

“So, how was the tour? Is your number one still the same?”

Phil nodded, some enthusiasm returning to his face. Like the huge dork he was, Phil refused to say out loud which college he hoped to get in the most in case it jinxed his chances and Clint humoured him because he thought it was cute. As Phil animatedly recapped all the reasons why his first choice was the best, Clint was able to smile and nod along in all the right places.

“I mean, they might not want me obviously but–”

“Of course they’ll want you,” Clint interrupted. Who in their right mind wouldn’t want Phil? He was top of his class and chaired so many clubs Clint sometimes wondered how they managed to see each other.

“You have to say that though, you’re my boyfriend.”

Clint snorted and kissed him swiftly to quash any lingering doubt.

“You’ll get in,” he said again and Phil hugged him close.

“You… You’ll come and visit, right?” he asked hesitantly against Clint’s shoulder, the words almost muffled but not so much that Clint didn’t hear.

“Yes!” The word burst out of him before he could stop himself, relieved beyond words that Phil would ask. Because it meant Phil had been worried too and most importantly that he wanted him there. Of course Clint would come and see him.

He felt Phil relax against him and when he looked at him Phil was smiling like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“Oh, good. I can’t wait to show you around, it’s going to be so great.” 

“Yeah?” Clint said and Phil nodded eagerly.

“You’ll love it. And all my choices have good archery teams,” he added a little shyly.

Happiness slammed through Clint at how much thought Phil had obviously put into it and he just had to kiss him again. And again. 

Soon college thoughts were the furthest thing from their minds.

It was Phil’s birthday a couple of days later and then Melinda and Jasper were off for their twentieth anniversary gift to themselves. They had asked Clint if he wanted to come but he had begged off, figuring they could probably use some time to themselves. Not that his motives were entirely pure, of course.

“Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do,” Jasper said before leaving and Clint made a face because seriously, _ew_. Nothing like the thought of his parents having sex to put him off it – then again, judging by the smirk on Melinda’s face, maybe that had been deliberate on their part.

Luckily, the perspective of ten days alone with Phil was enough to distract him quite thoroughly. Granted, Phil’s parents would be there to keep an eye on them but they would be at work during the day and that left the door wide open to so many possibilities.

Clint had plans. 

They had talked about _it_ a few times before, but neither of them had felt ready, one way or another. Now Clint thought he was and he hoped Phil was too.

He brought the subject up on the second day, having spent most of the first making good use of their short refractory period. What? He had missed his boyfriend!

Phil was reading a book naked in Clint’s bed, which admittedly was a little distracting, but Clint was on an important mission.

“So I was thinking…” he trailed off and Phil made an enquiring hum, not looking up from his page.

That wouldn’t do.

He draped himself against Phil’s side and kissed him, making sure he had his attention before he pulled away. Phil made a faint protesting noise and then Clint said:

“You should fuck me.”

Phil dropped the book.

“Really?”

“Well, only if you want to, obviously.”

“Are you crazy? Of course I want to. But only if you’re sure.”

“Yeah.”

Phil kissed him again only to stop abruptly.

“Wait, did you mean right now?” he asked and Clint laughed. 

“If you want.”

Phil got his thinky face on and Clint knew he was considering the pros and cons of doing it now. A shiver crept down his spine.

“We can start slow and see how it goes, okay?” Phil offered, suddenly sounding a little nervous, and Clint nodded encouragingly.

They lay down and there was a moment where they both sort of hovered, as though they had never seen each other naked before, until Clint put his hand on the back of Phil’s head and tugged him closer for a kiss.

Kissing was good. Kissing was normal. They were very good at kissing. 

Clint felt Phil relax as the kiss deepened, his hands going down to caress Clint’s chest and stomach and then–

“Hang on, let me grab the lube.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “We don’t really need it, remember?”

“Well, you know, just in case…”

“Don’t think it’s going to be a problem,” he said and grinned when Phil’s pupils dilated in reaction. “Come here.”

He pulled Phil back to him and flipped them over so Clint was on top, grinning down at Phil before going for another kiss. He kept it slow and lazy and let his hands explore, encouraging Phil’s to do the same – and explore they did, wandering down his spine to his ass, grabbing a handful each.

Clint hummed his approval and scouted up the bed a little to give him better access, moaning at the drag of his half-hard cock against Phil’s stomach. One of Phil’s hands trailed over his entrance and he ran his fingers over it, not pushing inside or anything, just there, and yet it made Clint squirm, more wetness rushing out to meet Phil’s fingers in anticipation.

“You’ve done it before?” Phil asked, breathing fast. He didn’t sound hesitant anymore, just very turned on, and Clint nodded against his chest. He had. After all, there were only so many times he could get wet while jerking off before he did some experimenting of his own. It had been a little weird at first, but eventually he had gotten very good at finding that spot that made him see stars. These days when he wasn’t with Phil, he usually jerked off and fingered himself at the same time, everything made impossibly hotter by imagining it was Phil’s fingers – and lately his cock.

“Did you like it?”

“Yeah. Come _on_.”

Phil pushed a finger inside. He went a little too fast and the angle was awkward, making Clint gasp at the burn, but he relaxed quickly, pressing a kiss on Phil’s collarbone.

“Yeah, come on,” he said again and Phil started to move his finger back and forth, slow and jerky at first before he got some of his usual assurance back and things got a lot smoother. Clint felt like laughing, it was so awesome.

“Clint. _Clint_. How are you so wet?” Phil asked, sounding genuinely bewildered, and Clint did laugh then because he had never thought there were a lot of advantages to being an omega but making Phil sound like _that_ was definitely going into the win column.

“Another. Give me another,” he said and Phil almost unseated him in his eagerness to comply, praises and curses intermingling as he worked two fingers in and out of Clint.

“Yeah, that’s good,” Clint groaned, arching into it. “Try to… a little towards the front –”

Phil seemed to understand his fumbling instructions and managed to find Clint’s prostate after only a few tries. He then set out to exploit that spot shamelessly, clearly loving the way it made Clint moan and jerk against him, his ass clenching around his fingers. There was no way Clint was going to last long after that, and yet his orgasm almost took him by surprise.

He came all over Phil’s stomach, shaking and crying out, Phil’s encouraging words in his ear, and felt a little empty when Phil pulled his fingers out. He kinda wanted them back, but first he slithered down Phil’s body and sucked his cock into his mouth, smirking – or trying to – at the way it made Phil grab for the sheets. Phil quickly lost that battle against himself, his hips twisting up to fuck Clint’s mouth with much eagerness – not that Clint tried to stop him – and it took Phil less than a minute to come down Clint’s throat, panting harshly.

“That was awesome,” Clint said while Phil still looked a little hazy around the corners. “Let’s do it again.”

So they did, as soon as Phil could move again, with Clint on his back and Phil between his legs. The position made Clint feel a little exposed but it was Phil so it was okay.

Two of Phil’s fingers slipped back into him effortlessly, but the third was more of a stretch. Clint winced and Phil stilled until he gave him the go-ahead. It was probably a good thing they had taken the edge off first and as it was there was no need to rush, Phil barely moving his fingers at all until Clint relaxed completely.

By the time he could take it easily they were both hard again and more than ready.

“Now?” Phil asked, a little desperately, and Clint nodded.

Now.

With both of them on suppressants the chances of Clint getting pregnant were nil but Phil still grabbed a condom, fumbling a little with it. Then he positioned himself and, with one last searching look at Clint, pushed inside.

He went slowly but he felt a lot bigger than three fingers and Clint bit his lip against a whine, willing himself to relax so the burn would go away. By the time he was buried all the way inside him, Phil had his eyes closed and he almost looked like he was in pain. Clint forgot his own discomfort, suddenly worried something was wrong.

“You’re okay?” he asked and Phil gave a strangled laugh, blinking a couple of times before looking at him.

“I’m great. You… God, Clint, you feel so good.”

Clint felt himself turn bright red at that and Phil ducked his head down to kiss him. The kiss was sloppy and off-centre, and it made Clint smile against his questing mouth.

“What about you?” Phil asked, staring intently at him. “Does it hurt? Do you want to stop?”

Clint shook his head. It didn’t hurt, not really, but it felt a little weird, Phil’s cock a solid weight inside him. He did like the intimacy of it though – liked having Phil on top of him and part of him inside him. Liked the way Phil was looking at him now.

“I’m good,” he said, and Phil kissed him again.

“Can I… Can I move?”

Clint thought about it for a second and nodded. 

Phil pulled out a little and thrust back in, and Clint’s eyes widened at the sensation. 

“Okay?” Phil asked again.

“Yeah, don’t stop.”

“Tell me if –”

“ _Phil_.”

Phil finally started moving for real, slow short thrusts that Clint was grateful for at first but that quickly became _not enough_ as he got used to it.

“Phil, come on, more,” he panted, hitching his legs higher around Phil’s back and bucking against him. Phil made a sound very close to a whimper and shifted to get better leverage. Then he started fucking Clint in earnest, deep and fast and a little hard, and Clint keened loudly as he clung to him.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he babbled, because this was exactly what he wanted, and then Phil tensed and sobbed a little.

“Clint, _Clint_ , oh God, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna–”

Phil’s head snapped back as he shouted something unintelligible that may have been Clint’s name, his hips jerking against Clint’s ass a couple of times before going still. Clint had a second to feel inordinarily pleased along with vaguely disappointed it was over before something else happened.

“What the… _Fuck_!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Phil panted. He tried to pull out but that only made it worse, and Clint hissed in pain.

“Ow!”

“I’m sorry, I’m _trying_ –”

“Well you’re making it worse! Will you just stop, we’re stuck!”

“Sorry,” Phil mumbled, going deadly still above Clint with his arms braced on either side of him. Now that he had stopped moving the pain was lessening rapidly, Clint’s body accommodating the knot like it was supposed to. Still:

“You’re supposed to be on suppressants,” Clint said accusingly. He had a freaking knot inside him, he didn’t have to be gracious about it. This was so not how he had thought his first time with Phil would go. 

“I am!” Phil protested. “You _know_ I am.” And okay, fine, Clint did know that. “It just… happens sometimes,” Phil added, sounding miserable. 

“It’d have been nice to know that beforehand,” Clint snarked because it certainly _hadn’t_ happened when they were together. 

He tried to get more comfortable but it was kind of hard to with a huge knot up his ass. Or at least it felt huge. Clint really had no idea.

Alphas, man. Biology sucked. He was never having sex again.

“I’m really sorry,” Phil said again, shifting slightly before freezing again at Clint’s sharp intake of breath. “Are you okay? Does it hurt?” 

“What do you _think_?”

“Oh.”

Phil’s lower lip wobbled. That freaked Clint out more than everything else. 

“Phil, hey, no. Look, it’s not that bad. Let’s just… wait it out, okay?”

Phil sniffled. “Okay,” he said in a small voice, and they laid there in silence for a while, studiously avoiding each other’s eyes. It was weird, considering the position they were in, pressed together with Clint’s legs still wrapped around Phil’s back. Clint had a sunken feeling that this was it. The end. Phil was never going to talk to him again after this.

That thought made him bite the inside of his cheek hard and for a second he felt like he was the one who was going to cry.

“Clint? What’s wrong?”

Of course Phil was looking at him _now_. Clint gave a watery laugh and if anything that only made Phil look more concerned.

“Clint? Is it really horrible?” he asked, his voice catching a little, and Clint shook his head.

“No, it’s just… You know.” He waved a hand at the two of them. “I’ve been thinking about this for weeks and when we finally do it _this_ happens and now you’re probably going to break up with me –”

“What? I’m n–”

“– and I didn’t even get to come!”

Silence rang out in the room after his outburst and Clint squeezed his eyes shut. This meant he didn’t see the look on Phil’s face or him leaning down. Instead the next thing he knew was Phil’s lips crashing into his and Clint’s eyes flew open in shock as he was thoroughly kissed. It took him a couple of seconds to get on with the program, and when Phil pulled back he was smiling and all Clint could manage was an intelligent “Whu?” 

“I thought _you_ were going to break up with me,” Phil explained, and Clint shook his head in disbelief.

“I love you, why would I break up with you?” he wondered out loud, and Phil gave a one shoulder shrug.

“Well I love _you_ and I’m not going anywhere either.” He ignored Clint’s snort – hey, it was good that he was finding humour in this mess, right? – and went on: “Now as for that last part…”

Clint frowned, thinking back on what he had said – his frustrations had been all jumbled up in his head and the words had just burst out in no particular order –, and he flushed once he remembered. He hadn’t meant to say that. Back when he had thought Phil was going to break up with him, that part had only been a minor annoyance.

“Can I?” Phil asked hopefully, and Clint nodded.

Phil’s hand on his cock was as familiar as the knot wasn’t – though maybe he was getting used to that too. Phil knew what he liked and how, and soon Clint was rock hard again, moaning in Phil’s mouth as he jerked him off. He could feel himself getting wetter around Phil’s cock too and felt embarrassed about it for a split second before Phil made him forget all about it with a twist of his wrist.

“How does it feel?” Phil asked breathlessly.

“Good, very good,” Clint panted.

“No, I mean… the knot.” Phil blushed, and Clint had to pause and think about it for a second. 

“I don’t know…” It was just right there, not doing anything. It didn’t hurt anymore but Clint didn’t get what was supposedly so great about it either. Maybe… “Can you try moving a little? Slowly?”

“Yeah.”

Phil’s first try was less than successful, causing Clint to yelp as he tried to thrust. He quickly changed tactics, settling for a slow grind while barely moving at all.

“Yeah, okay, that’s better,” Clint panted, before crying out when the edge of the knot found his prostate.

“What, what’s wrong?” Phil asked panicky, freezing in just the right spot. Clint’s mouth fell open in a silent scream as his entire body seemed to seize up, his ass clamping down on Phil’s cock.

“Fuck, oh fuck, right there,” he managed to gasp and Phil got the message and proceeded to make Clint lose his fucking mind. It didn’t take long, the stimulation almost too much, and Clint came with a yell before blacking out.

He was still half out of it when Phil’s knot shrank enough to allow his cock to slip out, making him whimper.

“Sorry,” Phil said again, and Clint swatted at him.

“Stop apologising,” he mumbled. “We’re definitely trying that again. Maybe without the knot though.”

“It’s not like I did it on purpose,” Phil pointed out.

“Yeah, well, try harder next time.”

“You know, you could fuck _me_ next time and we wouldn’t have that problem.”

Clint thought about it and: “Okay, yeah, we’re definitely doing that too.”

“Uh…”

“What?”

“Is now a good time to tell you the condom broke?”

A beat of silence, and then:

“Oh, come on!”

Clint’s life sucked.

(Okay, fine, it really didn’t.)


End file.
